


If you make me regret dying...

by Crystallized_Heart



Category: Togainu no Chi
Genre: Assassin!Shiki, Attempts at Fluff & Humour (Shiki jealous of a vacuum cleaner and likes), Gore, Kidnapping, M/M, Mention Of Suicide Attempt, Shiki on rampage, detective!Motomi, limited time, onesided Keisuke/Akira, platonic Akira/Keisuke, rich boy!Akira
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4138497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystallized_Heart/pseuds/Crystallized_Heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiki is an assassin killing only for the pleasure of hearing the opposites to bid or plea for their lifes. Not even once he failed an assassination. Until he meets Akira, who doesn't even try to beg for his mercy. </p><p>"If you want to kill me, then do it now. It's not like I have anything to lose"</p><p>Such a statement doesn't sit well with the conceited killer so he abducts Akira instead of killing him. Akira's death sentence will be postponed until he finds something worth living for. But the ordeal isn't as easy as it seems because the mysterious client demands Akira's death and Akira's father hires one of the best private eyes in the city to bring back his heir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you make me regret dying...

**Author's Note:**

> The story isn't as funny as it seems on the first glance. Of course there will be humorous and even fluffy parts in the story, especially after some time passes. But it isn't comedy of any sorts.  
> Both of them don't know what to do with their lifes and how to cherish every moment and they are slowly learning. But they don't have very much time, since there is pressure from everywhere.  
> I don't know where this comes from. If the theme of the story isn't to your liking then... well... you know the saying 
> 
> Sorry for the grammar and eventual spelling mistakes as well as my crappy English syntax. I hope it's still enjoyable though.
> 
> With this said, let's move on to the prologue

„As if they would dare to send somebody“, the middle aged man in a dress suit - much to tight for him especially around the belly – laughed at his personal secretary. His small, black eyes which reminded those of a rat gleamed mischievously as he dissheveled the pitiful strands of thin, black hair. „They are much too scared of the consequences“ The man was a corrupt and unscrupulous business tycoon who would destroy anyone standing in his way. Just a week ago he crushed a concurrent to his business with unfair means. As for what kind of weapons he used against them... Money, money and more money. But in the end it was a pretty lucrative investition, except one small detail. The CEO promised revenge. But what could some bankrupt man do in this world ruled by money? The answer was simple. Pretty much nothing. „Also they don't have enough funds to hire someone“

 

Hearing that the secretary relaxed. One could easily tell how tense she was. With her age of twenty three she had a long and hopefully promising life with her hopefully soon-to-be husband in prospect which she didn't want to lose at any means. She could be described as pretty, but plain, since there was nothing extraodinary in her features besides the big, dark eyes as deep as woodlakes in the night. Her silky, black hair was cut in a long bob still immaculately styled like she didn't have a busy and stressful working day nearly completed. „You can go home for today.“, the suit wearing man said to the young woman. „I won't stay long either“ She bowed respectfully – even though she thought of this man as unworthy of any respect being the slimy, obnoxious pervert he was – and left her boss' office. Gladly he didn't attempt anything creepy today disguised as a „celebration of a sucessful deal“. Perhaps he was still preoccupied with something else which saved her from being felt up by those short, beaded fingers. Supressing a shiver she went down with the elevator while saying good bye to her collegues still lingering around here. By the next day she would be glad to be let off earlier, because no one even imagined what would happen to the company president slash pervert slash asshole he was known among his employées in those very hours he was left alone in his office.

 

Soon after sending his secretary home the man regretted it. He was sure, she'd find the needed files much faster than he did. Although it was somehow creepy to hear how the last voices died off leaving nothing but silence behind. He wasn't sure what time it was as he suddenly heard some screeching sounds outside the office. Nervously he laughed it off wiping his forehead with a dirty handkerchief. For some dubious reason it got hotter in the office even though the temperature on the thermostat was still at pleasant twenty degrees. Was it broken? He made a note in his mind to contact the maintanance department on the morrow of the next day. Then suddenly the golden door knob of his office began to move. _„Oh shit... So it wasn't imagination?“_ , the man thought panicking. He thought who he could call for help. The night guard should be in his booth. Yes, it was a great idea. Which shattered as soon as the man took off the receiver. The stationary phone was dead. _No panic..._ he thought and reached for his mobile phone only to find out that the battery was empty. Now it actually was time to panic since he remembered that he didn't lock up the door after his secretary went home. The lock clicked. The door slowly opened as if ridiculing him.

 

Finally it swung aside revealing a pretty appealing figure of a young man. The rich raven black locks framed the pale, nearly royal face – something which already was worthy of the man's petty jealousy. Shiny eyes in the colour of fresh spilled blood seemed to look down on him in contempt – just how dared he? - and some kind of evaluation. The lean, muscular body the man always dreamed of was clad in tight black leather leaving no space for imagination for one would find beneath. His presence alone filled the room with adrenaline and heavy pressure. This was the kind of guy women swooned over. The kind of guy the man learned to despice through all these years.

 

The business tycoon was too busy over examining the other man's features to notice the scabbard fastened on his studded leather belt. That until the young man skillfully unsheathed a gleaming – and certainly very sharp - japanese sword and pointed its end towards the now profundely sweating man without saying as much as a single word. The older man shivered at this gesture full of finality.

 

„Who are you?“, he asked finally with a shaking voice, gulping loudly. The younger one remained solemnly silent and watched his prey with those shiny but impassive – pretty much unnerving – pair of eyes while still pointing his sword in the man's direction. „Are you an assassin or something?“, the businessman asked again, receiving same answer as before. „Who is your current client? How much did he pay? I'll pay twice as much if you let me live!“ The only answer was silence once again. „Thrice“, he bid. By now he was sure the man was a professional killer and not some boy playing aroung. Nobody else could give off such killing intent by just standing and watching you.

 

So they actually dared to send someone after him. But they probably went for a cheap one. Not someone who was adept at fighting and just acted big. That's what it had to be. A really good killer would already have killed him, without as much as batting an eyelid. This one just stood there and listened to everything he said. The black-haired man's hand even twitched slightly at the mention of thrice the price he was paid for assassinating him. Nearly not noticeable but the tycoon always deemed himself to be a keen observer so he noticed. Maybe the killer was stupid enough to believe, he'd be let off easily after this. Maybe he was stupid enough to believe, there'd be no consequences. The assassin even reveiled his face. If only he could reach the lowest drawer of his office table where he hid his revolver without raising the other's suspition then he'd surely be on the winning side of the table. Therefore he had to talk. Talk as if his life were at stake – which obviously was a given.

 

But he didn't get a chance. „Done with your prayers?“, the younger male raised his cold but sensually deep voice for the first time since he entered the office room. His voice didn't betray any emotion but his killing intent. His eyes though gleamed with something one could call glee or even slight amusement. Finally the man understood, why the black-haired killer had left him live for so long. The monster in a handsome shell enjoyed the poor man pleading for his life just to crush his hopes in the end. The rumoured King himself stood before him. The fierce assassin who didn't fil a single assignment, no matter how tricky. Il Re. The realisation made the rat-man squirm in his leather office chair. How the hell could a ruined man afford a nearly legendary professional killer? „I don't want to die!“ he whimpered in a last hopeless attempt to probably save his doomed skin. In his utter desperation he didn't even consider it was completely futile. His death sentence was cast since he began to speak. „I'll pay you any amount you wish. Just...“

 

The phrase was cut off with a single strike of the blade, staining the steel in deep red blood same vibrant colour as the colour of the killer's eyes. The male moved as silent and elegant as a shadow on the wall reaching the pleading tycoon in a matter of seconds and opening him up from his collarbone down to his belly. While blood, fat and insides kept creeping out like slimy reddish-gray snakes, the black swordsman cut off the dead man's – pretty ugly – head to don it to the client as a proof of an accomplished assignment. With this done the black haired man left the room without as much as looking back leaving the office door wide open so the victim would be found at once.

 

~o~o~o~

 

„Have you heard of it already, Akira?“, a soft voice snapped the silver haired male out of his reverie. His best friend Keisuke appeared seemingly out of nowhere beside him and asked this simple question without even bothering to greet Akira. The morning air was prickling an his face and the air smelled of ozone after the last night's rain. The morning traffic was as thick as the air before a thunderstorm which was a normal occurence. The public tranportation was even worse. The only save kind of travelling was obviosly walking. Especially if the distance was close. At the moment the sky was blue as were the silver-haired eyes, but if the weather forecast could be trusted, it should rain in the afternoon. On his way to college he started thinking of various things so he didn't notice the other one approaching. „Heard of what?“, the young man asked, shifting his gaze from the dull gray of the pavement towards his friend – a tall lad with chocolate brown hair and warm eyes of the same colour. The aspiring engineer never cared about his clothes so he wore his ever present blue overall – Akira often wondered if the whole garderobe of the given youth consisted of such - over a red-grey checkered lumberjack shirt.

 

Keisuke arched a bushy brown eyebrow and looked at his friend in disbelief. „Don't say me you didn't“, he asked and gave off an exasperated sigh as the silver haired gave him a pointed look which probably meant this very same. „Il Re has striked again“, Keisuke announced with a worried look on his mostly smiling face. „It's in every morning paper today“ Akira lifted his eyes towards the sky. „So what?“, he murmured absentmindedly. It wasn't like that guy was the only assassin in the town. So Akira couldn't really understand the hype around this person. Actually he got more attention than any serial killer in history because of his unorthodox methods to do his job. It was a fact he was a bold one. Killing his victims with a sharp sword not even bothering to hide evidence of his wrongdoings fully knowing, the police won't pursue him for whatever reasons. But he was just another man out of millions. Just another one of those hyenas like his father was.

 

Keisuke seemed disappointed with his peers reaction. „How can you be this desinterested? He goes after the rich guys, can't you see?“, the bruenet asked in an worrying tone earning himself another of Akira's famed 'So what''s. Another sigh escaped Keisuke who wanted to say something which was interrupted by his friend. „I don't think it concerns me in any way... It isn't like Il Re is a serial killer or something. He is just another man who makes his living with killing others. I don't remember to ever have offended him so I'm pretty much save.“ „But...“, Keisuke uttered just to be interrupted again. „It isn't like there is someone who wants me dead. My father is a way better candidate... You should worry about him“, Akira said not without sarkasm, knowing how much Keisuke disliked the man who sired him. The silver haired himself never considered the man of being worthy to be called one. „But what if someone thinks...“ „Then he'll be proven wrong“, Akira didn't let his friend speak his worries out, since he knew the talk nearly by heart. The 'what if''s were part of their conversations since the new assassin started his head hunt.

 

Akira was pretty much aware that the bruenet liked him like a man. Keisuke even confessed once when they were in their early High School years. The blue-eyed however never thought of Keisuke more than just a friend. Of course he could pretend like he did all the time. Just lie to the other one to make him happy. But this was a thing Akira couldn't not do. Not to Keisuke. The one who stayed by his side, when the rest of the world turned a cold shoulder. The one who accepted him the way he was. He loved Keisuke. This much was certain. But it was kind of platonic feeling. Actually Akira never thought about his sexual orientation before. It simply didn't matter. Someone who just wanted to die didn't care about trivial stuff like this. „My value to my father lies just in me carrying on his name. If I died, he'd give his corporation to any of his CEO's without even batting an eyelid. That's how this man's mind works. You are the one who should know it best“

 

Keisuke didn't say anything to this. „What is about your value to me?“, he asked so softly Akira nearly didn't get it. This simple question made him feel guilty even though the silver-haired youth didn't really comprehend where this feeling came from. Maybe from _that_ time. When he saw Keisuke slumped near his hospital bed after waking up. The relieved smile and eyes red of crying all day. Maybe it was then he decided to not toy with his fate again. Because he never wanted to see the grievous expression on his friend's face again. „I'll be careful“, Akira promised in a voice as soft as Keisuke's was. He knew it was a standard set phrase, nothing but empty words. Keisuke probably knew as well. But he didn't dwell on the matter any further. „We'll be late for our morning classes“, the bruenet chimed way too cheerful to fool Akira. But the silver-haired didn't say a thing about it. He just nodded curtly as both of them raised their pace.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that's it.  
> Did you like it?  
> Did you not?  
> What can be improved?
> 
> Any feedback and constructive criticism is welcome and helps improving.


End file.
